Waiting for the Corryvreckan tide at Glengarrisdale.

As we were finishing second breakfast, the chilly silence of Corpach Bay was broken by the rumble of engines. The SC Nordic, a Danish pallet carrier of 4,786 gross tonnage, was making her way NE between Colonsay and Jura towards the Sound of Mull. She was enroute from Greenock on the Clyde to Skogn in Trondheimsfjorden, Norway. Soon she was out of earshot and silence again fell over the bay of the dead (Corpach Bay).

 Once on the water again, too much north in the wind kept our sails furled but steady progress...

...saw the brooding bulk of Scarba increasingly dominate our view ahead.

Scarba marks the northern side of the fearsome Gulf of Corryvreckan and its steep slopes plunging into the rushing tides add to the intimidating nature of the place...but more of that later.

We were able to launch the sails again as the onshore breeze backed to a tight reach. Above the rough hills our eyes were drawn to...

 ...the magnificent sight of a pair of...

 ...white tailed sea eagles soaring on the same onshore wind (which we were paddle sailing in) creating an up draught above the slope.

This one either had a white tag on its wing or was missing some feathers. Maurice was amazed. He had gone from never having seen a sea eagle to seeing 4 within 24 hours. It did occur to me that this might be the same pair that we had seen the previous day, some 25km to the west on the east coast of Colonsay. However, they are lazy big birds and once they have a mate and territory they tend not to stray far. On average a sea eagle's territory is about 8km in diameter.

 There are very few places to land on this rough coast pathless which is the domain...

...of these nimble goats.

Neither Maurice nor Sam had been through the Corryvreckan before and they fell behind in some deep discussion about what to expect.

Neither of them seemed convinced....

 ...by my reassurances that it would be flat as a pancake, especially as we drew ever nearer to the Gulf. Perhaps this was because the previous evening, Ian and I had given a dramatic account of our last trip through the Corryvreckan.  This had involved breaking standing waves and moving backwards. This was despite paddling forward at full pelt, the tide had turned against us and threatened to carry us back the way we had just come.

On this trip, the west going spring flood was still in full flow at 8 knots and as we wanted to traverse the Gulf to the east it was time for a sharp...

 ...exit to the right, where we entered Glengarrisdale Bay where the eponymous...

 ...red roofed bothy lay at the back of the bay. It would make an ideal shelter from the cold wind for our three hour wait for the tide to turn.

 So we landed on the sands of the bay and...

 ...warmed up by carrying the boats well up the beach...

...so that we would be sure the tide would not carry the boats away during an extended Glengarrisdale luncheon.

A cold second breakfast at dead end beach, Jura

We woke on the morning of our fourth day of our trip round Jura and Colonsay on the machair of Shian Bay on the west coast of Jura. A cold NW wind was blowing  and it felt like spring had retreated to allow the return of winter.

As we had no intention of paddling through the Gulf of Corryvreckan against the west going flood tide, in wind over tide conditions, we wanted to arrive at the west end of the Corryvreckan at slack water before the east going ebb started. That was not until late afternoon and as the Corryvreckan was only 24km away, we had some time to kill. Unfortunately there was not a scrap of shelter on Shian Bay so, on the one morning we could have enjoyed a relaxed start, we had to get moving to keep warm.

We donned full winter attire and...

...Sam even had his pogies on. What a contrastv to the previous few days.

As we left Shian Bay the wind had just a little too much north in it to get our sails up which...

...pleased sail-less Sam. Then, as soon as we rounded the first headland (backed by huge raised beaches of cobbles),...

...the wind freed enough to get our sails up and we were soon making excellent progress up the...

...remote NW coast of Jura, which is always a delight.

In addition to the raised cobble beaches there are several levels of raised cliffs, which feature dry arches and caves and are interspersed by sand dunes. They represent the varying sea levels after the last Ice Age. The west coast of Jura is one of the geological wonders of the World but it gets hardly any visitors.

Our first stop was at Corpach Bay, some 7km further on from Shian Bay. Corpach Bay is backed by caves which were once used to store corpses from Argyll on their final journey to Iona for burial. Iona is 45km away on the horizon at the extreme left of this photo. Often sea conditions were too rough to complete the journey, especially in winter. One can imagine the smell in the caves come springtime when the mourners returned.

We needed some shelter for second breakfast and, not fancying the caves, we spotted a dry sea stack at the back of the beach.

This provided excellent shelter for a most convivial second breakfast. We were all in excellent spirits as we were in no hurry and had no dead to bury.

Read Ian's account here.

Baked Bramley apples at a Shian Bay Sunset.

As the sun in the west sank behind distant Colonsay...

 ...it illuminated the moors of Jura to the east with a warm red light. A full moon rose into a cold blue sky above the misty hills beyond the moor.

We gradually gathered round the fire with our sports recovery drinks. Camp raconteur David kept Sam amused with tales such as how he had rolled more cars than kayaks!

 We were all set for a most convivial evening but...

 ...Ian and I made our temporary excuses as we...

 ...photographed the last of the sunset in the hope of capturing a green flash.

As we made our way back up to the camp, a cold mist began to roll down towards us from the Jura  mountains.

Gradually it spread across the near full moon, which was now high in the sky. Ian and I delighted in telling Maurice that as the full moon meant the tides were at springs, it would be an exciting trip through the great Gulf of Corryvreckan in the morning. As Morris had not been through the Corryvreckan before, his face visibly paled in the moonlight, as we continued to wind him up with tales of giant waves and whirlpools....

 Soon the cold mist wrapped around us making everything wet with condensation.

We were glad of the warmth of the fire. David and Sam had to sit ever closer on their bench seat as Ian and I continued to cut the ends off to keep the fire going to ensure...

...cooking of Ian's new signature dish...baked Bramley apples with clotted cream and sprinkled with cinnamon. 

Life really does not get much better than this. For us it is the essence of sea kayaking. Using a small boat to voyage and navigate yourself to remote, special places gives a real sense of adventure and achievement. Alternatively, we could have signed up for Saga Holidays "thrilling tour and cruise adventure for the over 50's" to Machu Picchu and the Galapagos Islands for £5,000 each (well Sam might not have been eligible as he is in his twenties). :o)

Read Ian's account here.

Breaking the spell of the Cailleach Uragaig on the NW coast of Colonsay.

The only break in the rocky ramparts of the NW coast of Colonsay was at Port Ban but reefs at low tide prevent landing much of the time. Even if the swell allowed you land at HW, you would find yourself trapped by the surrounding cliffs. So we paddled on without a sideways glance.

W reserved our sidways glances for the amazing bird colonies which cover these inaccessible cliffs.

Predominantly the species were razorbills and guillemots but there were also plenty of puffins. The air above us was full of whirring wings and...

 ...the sea was covered with rafts of resting birds. Fulmars and kittiwakes were also nesting at the edges of the main colonies and the mournful but atmospheric cries of the kittiwakes echoed round the geos.

The incessant noise of the birds and the smell of the white guano deposits which contrasted with the yellow lichen on the steeper parts of the cliffs left us in no doubt that we were in the environment of the birds. There was no sign of the hand of man, not even a lobster pot.

 We were dwarfed by the scale of the place. It was very reminiscent of paddling round St Kilda. I have been on two boat supported paddling trips there and Ian has been on one. In many ways this was a more intense and close up experience as we had got here from the mainland (some 70km in our wakes) by ourselves.

We were well tired by the time we approached the bold headland of Cailleach Uragaig. Atop the headland rests the grim, grey visage of the Cailleach herself. The Cailleach Uragaig (The Hag of Colonsay) is a Celtic Goddess who has powers to shape shift herself so that she can appear as a hag, a mother or a virgin. She is a winter spirit who ushers in winter by washing her plaid in the Corryvreckan and she can often keep the arrival of spring at bay. On Colonsay she kept a young girl captive to steal her youth. She hid herself from the girl's angry lover by transforming herself into this rocky headland.

Tired sea kayakers always hope that the sands of Kiloran Bay will be just round the corner from the hag but they...

..are still  2km further on.

David was now getting very tired. It was 7pm and we had been paddling all day. David is well into his eighth decade and it is quite remarkable that he still has the stamina for such long trips.  He thought I was being very gentlemanly waiting behind with him but in truth I was not well and having difficulty keeping up with him!

 It really was a relief to paddle into Kiloran Bay where we intended to camp.

As soon as he got out of his kayaking gear David laid himself down on the machair and fell into such a deep sleep that we feared the Cailleach herself had enchanted him and that he might not awake for years! Fortunately we broke the Cailleach's spell, by opening a can of Guinness. The PSSSHT soon had David awake!

Read Ian's account here.